School
by Ferrero
Summary: Every information from the School was a hoax, and only Fang's address was real, so now Fang lives with his parents, Max and the rest of the flock with Dr. Martinez and Ella. They get sent to a school, and Max meets a guy called Nicholas...FAX
1. Intro to whatever

Max P.O.V.

**A/N Things pop into my head often when I'm having exams****… ;P**

**The starting is pretty much like 'The Pen Pal Business' but the story's NEW! Okay, there ARE similarities, like Fang's found his parents and Max is staying with Dr. Martinez (m****u****m) and she's going to school (the normal one). But mostly, the similarities end there. Read on!**

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**Chapter 1**

I'm sitting at the desk at home, wondering what to do at the new school tomorrow when Nudge came bursting through my bedroom door. Mum (Dr. Martinez, to people who aren't up-to-date) had found us a new home because she couldn't fit the whole flock—minus Fang—plus herself and my sis, Ella, into her house in Arizona. So now each one of us had our own room with our own bed (which is like living in a palace compared to caves), nice, huh?

It turned out that everything that we found in the School was a hoax except for Fang's address, so we whisked him off to his home and said (well, yelled) a bye-bye and flew off into the setting sun. Tsk tsk. How clichéd. But there you have it, our parting. Funny, I can't even remember Fang's address though I remembered staying up all night just to etch it in my mind. I have a feeling that Angel's been tinkering with my mind and she's extracted all that 'extra' information. Hell, I can't even remember Fang's real name. 'Real name' as in not Fang or Nick or Fnick, or whatever we called him, 'real name' as in the name his mother (a.k.a. the crack addict) chose for him.

Mum had enrolled us in a school somewhere down the road, which was pretty far, I might add. We're starting school the next day. If we flew, we would take about half an hour to reach it, provided we were not dragging Ella's butt plus her school bag all the way for the journey. That would be a great damper and we'd probably reach about half an hour late even if Iggy, Nudge, the Gasman and Angel lugged her along, grabbing each of her limbs while I did the job of swinging the backpack dangerously low over some innocent soul and her shopping cart.

The flock and I hardly ever flew anymore, only on the weekends and on weekdays, if I wasn't busy baking cookies with mum. I had to admit, my first batch turned out to be black. As black as Fang's wings had been and still is. Oddly, I haven't missed Fang much. Must have been Angel at work there. We've been separated for a year or so already, but there's no sense of longing or some broken glass stuck in my heart, unlike when we were only separated for a few days, maybe a month, after Ari joined the flock.

Once we had shifted out of mum's old house in Arizona, Nudge and Angel had dragged me to the nearest hairdresser to do a complete make-over. I had to sit through, both literally and figuratively, the hairdresser musing about why Nudge, who was three freaking years younger than me, was instructing her on what to do with _my_ hair. The hairdresser had given me (on Nudge's orders) three layers of hair, longest just above my underarms, shortest just below my earlobe, streaking some random bits black after rebonding it. It was pretty much like the experience when we were stuck doing some grand make-over after some guy just came pointing at us in New York, or where was it? My memory's starting to fail me. Beat's me how I even remembered the Director's name.

If you're not even fifteen and have completely no idea what rebonding and layering means, don't worry, at least you can still check it up in some random dictionary before you turn fifteen. I promise you, I was at sea when Nudge jabbered on what to do with my hair. I had to drag her to my room to get her to explain what those complicated terms (which are commonly used in boutiques, and I don't go there at all) are. Once you get her mouth open, it's really hard to shut it, so I had fallen asleep in the middle of her three hour long lecture on the terms and how unladylike I was. Let's just say that if you'd spent more than half your life in a nightmare, you'd care more about surviving than simply looking pretty. The whitecoats ain't gonna let you off just because you've got a pretty face.

Uh, speaking of Nudge. "Max! Help! Ella's beating me in a game of Airplanes!" Nudge exclaimed desperately. Um, a game of Airplanes? You've got to be kidding me! That's based on pure luck! And Nudge here is twelve; Ella's thirteen, and their still playing a game of Airplanes. Eek! Like, what are they doing with such a childish game? Should Gazzy and Angel be the ones playing it? **(A/N: In where I live, that game was called 'The ****Aeroplane**** Game'. Each player must aim to get all four of his or her counters to 'home' by throwing a dice to see how many square/shapes you advance.)**

I sighed, and allowed myself to be dragged to the room where they were playing Airplanes. To cut the long story short, Nudge lost. Can I insert an evil grin here? There's no rule that states all leaders are not to be allowed to smile behind their 'subjects'' backs.

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**A/N I know I'm using up my ideas pretty fast and I'd probably be a dry well soon, but if I don't get them typed, I'll forget them! Isn't that even worse?**** Anyway, R & R!**


	2. School, the normal kind

Max P.O.V.

**A/N ****Why**** am I even bothering to type Author's Note anyway?**

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**Chapter 2**

The moment I stepped into the classroom it was like time had frozen. Iggy was in another class, so there was no one to share my discomfort, but he'd probably be experiencing the same thing a few classrooms down the corridor, and his might be worse as he's blind. All eyes turned to me and it was very uncomfortable. I'd like to see you try having thirty-nine pairs of eyes (excluding the teacher, because he wasn't staring) looking at you at the same time. If you added the rainy weather outside, I'm sure you can picture how cheerful the scene was.

Awkwardly, I walked towards the teacher, who had beckoned for me to go to him. He was standing behind his desk (which had a fresh apple on it, if you want to know) and he rested his hands on the table. "Class, I would like you to welcome Kathryn." Yup, you didn't hear him wrong. Nudge had decided that it would be fun(ny) to make me go to school under the name of Kathryn and mum had agreed for who-knows-what reasons. One thing, I'm sure, was that Nudge and Angel would start calling me 'cat' soon. The weird thing is that cats chase birds, and I'm not sure if they want a cat in the house.

"Kathryn, if you don't mind, please take a seat beside Nicholas," the teacher said. Somehow, the name Nicholas rang a bell somewhere. The class started sniggering. Was Nicholas some gangster or was he allergic to girls with wings? I looked at the teacher questioningly. Like, how was I supposed to know who the hell Nicholas was? The teacher pointed to the one of the two empty seats, which was beside a boy who wore spectacles as round as those used in the Harry Potter movies. That boy, whom I presumed was Nicholas, squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. Uh, let me guess. He's just a loner? No one seemed to want to make friends with him or something, like he was an outcast of the school.

Taking a seat beside him, I stuck out my hand and said, "Hi, pleased to meet you." He took my hand awkwardly and released it as soon as he touched it. "Nick," he mumbled under his breath.

"Shall I call you that?" I asked, somehow a little too polite and ladylike for my taste. But if a tomboy can change her weirdly messed up hairstyle into one funky hairdo, what's to say it's impossible? Speaking of hairdos…Nicholas' hair was unusually short, just long enough to pass off as 'not bald', in my opinion which is about two centimeters a strand. It was as if someone rand a lawnmower over it instead of a shaver, so that his jet black hair stuck up in all directions. In general, he looked like a typical nerd if not for his skin color, which was way darker than the fair one of a nerd's because they usually stay indoors most of the time and don't get a tan.

Nicholas nodded. Okay, so now, he was Nick. "You can call me Kate," I said, and returned my attention to the teacher. He was already halfway through some lecture and I missed most of it. "What's his name, Nick?" I asked softly. Nick looked startled at being addressed, though he masked it very well. But after years of living with a Mr. I-don't-show-any-emotion-at-all, I now excel in the art of face reading. "Professor Umhill," came the short reply. "'Um, hill'? That's his name?" I asked incredulously. Nick shook his head and took out a piece of paper. 'Professor Umhill', he wrote. My mouth formed the shape of a very oval 'o'.

He smiled at me wryly and continued taking down notes of Professor Umhill's lecture. Oops. I didn't know we were supposed to take notes. "Uh, care to lend them to me after this lesson? I think I'll have to make a copy of it. I'm lost," I told Nick. He looked at me weirdly as if I was a nutcase and nodded, then returned to his note copying.

After Professor Umhill's long and boring lecture on the movement of the tectonic plates, the pupils were free and roaming the school during break while I was still in the classroom busily copying notes. Nick had offered to stay by and 'guard his notes' while I did what I wanted to do—copy his notes. Oddly enough, if he were so sensitive about people copying his notes, he should have just gone to get his notes copyrighted daily. Now that was something tough, even for a bird kid who had supposedly saved the world and blah blah blah.

Nick was a nice guy, especially since we've only known each other for just over two hours. Maybe he could be my first friend in this area, and I'd maybe even promote him to good friend. The 'best friend' rank was specially reserved for Fang, and no one can replace him. "You done yet?" Nick asked so suddenly that I think my head would have hit the ceiling from jumping so high. His slightly rough voice penetrated my line of already incoherent thoughts, making them even more incoherent. Somehow, I can't even remember how Fang sounded like; heck I can't even remember how his lips felt when we kissed in that cave. I guess I'm just beginning to forget because of old age. I'm ancient compared to the Erasers, who were all dead by now.

Sometime, I'll get Nick to leave his hair for maybe a few months before cutting it. He looked so skinny with hair that short.

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**A/N ****All**** the introduction to this Nicholas character.**


	3. The Art Lesson

Max P.O.V.

**A/N Bored dead, but I'm supposed to revise for my Science exam ****which is three days away in relation to the time I'm writing this and not the time I'm posting. If it's in relation to the time I'm posting, it'd probably be a week ago.**

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**Chapter 3**

I cannot express how glad I was to have Nick as a friend. If not for him, I'd probably end up in the canteen instead of the toilet and the toilet instead of the classroom. And maybe even the classroom instead of the canteen. He orientated me well on the campus, and as everyone tended to avoid him, we could easily see where we were heading to in advance; an advantage of being an outcast, Nick had pointed out, managing to stay cheerful somehow. Once again, he was a nice guy, and I don't see why the other pupils shunt him. He was quiet, alright, but his personality wasn't that of a stingy and self-centered person. A week after I had started school, during art class, we were asked to draw using charcoal, or as it is called, charcoal drawing. Name already explains it all; to use what to do what.

We were all given a piece of A3 size paper with quite a rough texture **(A/N**** In where I live, it's called 'drawing block'. ****Anyone whose country calls it that too?**and were told to draw whatever we think is appropriate and should be drawn in charcoal, which is like, everything. I loved drawing and had taken it up as a hobby ever since 'saving the world' had to drop out of the 'hobby' list, but there I was, sitting dumbly at my table beside Nick with nothing in my head; no inspiration, nothing. Nick looked over his drawing and peered at my empty paper. He wouldn't let me see what he was drawing, maybe it was something personal. But anyway, I had my own problem to worry about—what to draw.

"A blank piece of paper? That does seem to be an abstract," Nick said sarcastically. Jerk. Then he said something more constructive than just adding salt to the wound, or oil to the fire, or whatever, or sarcastic words to the bird kid, "Draw something you like, or something that had a great impact on you and your life." Hmm, let me guess, I'm going to end up drawing the School, or Itex, or Erasers, or Flyboys, or wings, or dog cages, and many many more. Anyone care to make a list?

I thought of the flock, then I thought about the wings. Eureka! I'm going to draw a family of hawks! Since I'm not good at drawing people but am a genius at drawing wings, I'll do just that. Nick watched my face light up, then returned to his drawing without a further word. Holding the piece of charcoal with a certain kind of grace, I made a few swift strokes over the paper and my arm went on autopilot, moving and maneuvering itself across the paper, sometimes drawing thick, long strokes, sometimes thin, short ones. I didn't really notice what I was drawing.

After my arms had tired themselves out, I took my first thorough look of the drawing and almost choked. It was a complete genius! The hawks were soaring in the air, two in front and another four trailing behind, leaving an uninhabited cave in the background. They had sharp, alert eyes and their beaks were curved perfectly. The largest was also the darkest with the heaviest and thickest strokes. The hawk to the left of the dark one had a pretty dark head but slowly, white mingled with it and when you observe the tail of the eagle, it was pure white. The smallest hawk was all white. Don't ask me why. I can hardly explain a white hawk to myself either. There were three other hawks; the third largest was a pale grey. My color scheme was pretty limited as I could only use grayscale since the only tool I have was a piece of charcoal.

I tapped Nick's shoulder with my blackened hand. Oops, I dirtied his uniform. He turned to look at me, then at his uniform. He brushed a hand over the smudge mark and looked at me again, "Yes? How may I be of help to you?" I chuckled a little at his accent of that of a posh waiter. Just because I had started mixing with Nick, the students had also started to avoid me, but what the heck, I didn't even care. It wasn't as if I could die because they didn't bother about me.

"I was wondering," I said, "if I could take a look at your drawing." He shook his head, short hair not moving an inch. "You know, you should really leave your hair and quit cutting it so short. You look like a joke, actually." He just smiled good naturedly and continued making smooth, swift strokes on his paper. I huffed and folded my arms across my chest, wishing that I could just take off because of my claustrophobia. I'm surprise I even managed to stay in school for this long a period of time.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, Nick finally waved a very black hand in front of me and gestured towards his drawing. "How do you like it?" he asked, nervously.

I took a look at it. "Like?" I said. "I don't even like it!" From the corner of my eye, I saw his face fall a little. "I love it!" His eyes snapped open and he looked up quickly. I pointed to his drawing, "Man, you're a genius!"

He had drawn an eye, very reflective and shiny with tears. It reflected moments of a guy laughing along with a girl, moments of the same guy shouting at the same girl, and moments when they just sit around doing nothing, simply enjoying each other's company. I grinned at him, "You should really join some world class art school." And his face split into a grin, then he thumped my back and leaned back, closing his eyes, a smile still playing on his lips, and I felt myself grin, too.

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**A/N Jeez, jeez, jeez.**** Those who don't know who Nick is, I'm gonna personally conk your head.**


	4. Angel know

Max P.O.V.

**A/N Someday I'll stop inserting useless Author's Note.**

**Chapter 4**

From that art lesson onwards, every time I succeed in making Nick smile just a little, my heart would flutter a little and I would grin myself, even if I were complaining about Professor Umhill being a turnip head for giving us so much homework. Sometimes, when Nick's hand accidentally brushes against mine, my breath would catch in my throat and my heartbeat would increase drastically. Now I wonder what _that_ means.

Now, Nick's hair had grown quite a lot, and was about six centimeters a strand now. He had convinced his mother (upon my request) to not cut his hair until it had touched his ear, and even then, don't cut it so short that it would end up looking like a dessert.

About a month after that art lesson, Angel started noticing that 'something was not right' with me. I asked her what she was and she insisted on dragging me to my room, far from prying ears. Getting straight to the point, she said quite gravely, "You like a boy, don't you?"

I looked at her, a little puzzled. That word 'like' had never made sense when it was used with the word 'boy'. "Of course I like a boy, you dolt! What else do you expect? I'm not a lesbian, you know?" I said indigently. Uh, oops. Did I just admit to that seven year old that I like someone? Instinctively, I turned away so that Angel couldn't see my cheeks, which were as red as blood, by then.

But using her powers of mind control, Angel made me face her. "What?" I cried out exasperatedly. "The guy you like, what's he like?" Angel asked, suddenly turning into an inquisitive thirteen year old girl who wanted to know what it was like to like someone. "Well, he has short black hair which looked like Gazzy's hair after an action packed day, except loads shorter. He wears specs, and is a genius at drawing. Anything else?"

"His personality," Angel asked, jumping up and down on my bed, "what's it like?"

I sighed, "He is the quiet type, but he has a sense of humor, which I find pretty interesting. He takes criticism well and is not the if-I-don't-do-well-first-time-I-will-quit kind of guy. Plus, he's an outcast."

Angel made a face, "Excuse, me, ma'am, if I hadn't get my facts wrong, you're the savior of the world and you like an outcast. He isn't good enough for you." That was so unlike Angel. What's up with her these days, getting hormonal? She's not even old enough! It should be Nudge acting like that, not Angel!

"Well, you see, Angel, when you like someone," I said, sighing as deeply as possible, "you don't give a damn what status in the society they are. When you're old enough to worry about boys, you'll understand. I don't even care if he's become disfigured after walking through acid rain. I don't give two hoots about his looks. What's more, he isn't your typical 'hot' guy. He's just a guy who is really nice buy whom everybody doesn't like. So if we ever hook up, I'm not afraid that anyone would steal him away. Understand?"

Then Angel asked, "What about Fang?" I sighed. Fang and Nick. Between them, a relationship with Nick seemed more possible, seeing that I don't even know where Fang is. I'll force it out of Angel someday. First, I'd have to deal with Nick, now that I like him. Why does an innocent bird kid who saved the world deserve to be stuck in a stupid love triangle?

"I don't even know where Fang is now, what do you expect? Yeah, I still like him, but what's the point? I don't know where Fang is, but I do know he wants me to be happy, and I want him to be happy too. But if he turns up one day at our house fingers entwined with Lisa's, I can't continue to drag up the past! I've got a whole life ahead of me! Besides, I'm ready to bet Fang's already over me. After all, he chose to stay with his mother!"

I watched as Angel's brows knit together a little, trying to comprehend what I had said not long ago and trying to read my mind. Just then, my mind was filled with Nicks. Happy Nicks, laughing Nicks, sad Nicks, frowning Nicks, angry Nicks, and loads more. Angel gave a barely audible gasp and ran out of my room, calling, "Nudge! I've got something I wanna show you!"

I sighed and strained my ears. Nudge said in a pretty excited tone, "What?" Then all went quiet and suddenly, I heard a squeal. From Nudge. Instinctively, I turned to shut my door so Nudge couldn't come in and start ranting about him. I was so dead, like a fish stuck on a fish hook. Any of you ever get that feeling? If you had, I hope you don't have a motor mouth for a sister, even if she's not your biological sister. Your secrets would be pasted all over the house even before you can say 'Fang'.

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**A/N Next chapter about Nudge killing Max by spreading the news…D**


	5. Now the flock knows

Max P.O.V.

**A/N Here goes.**

**Chapter 5**

"Everybody listen up!" Nudge said over dinner. I groaned and buried my head in my arms. Nudge is so gonna be dead by the time I finish with her. All heads turned towards her, even Iggy's. She glanced furtively at me before saying, "Max likes someone." The whole room went silent, save some sounds made by nocturnal animals. Then they all looked at me, with the exception of Iggy. I peeped out from under my arms and immediately returned my head to its original position. This was so embarrassing.

"What about Fang?" Gazzy asked. Can someone draw up a law that says blood siblings should not be alike at all? "Yeah," Iggy said, turning to face me, "what about Fang? We all know you like him." Heads all around the table nodded, even mum and Ella. Was I that obvious? I made a last coherent thought before singing my ABC's backwards: Angel, send them what I said. She projected a nod into my head and went to work.

Slowly, people sitting at the table started murmuring to themselves questions which are supposed to be directed at me. "Max, you know you and Fang were made for each other?" Ella asked redundantly. Mum said, "Max, are you positive that Fang has no feelings for you anymore after going through thick and thin?" "Max, you sure Fang doesn't like you anymore? I've got enough reasons to say he hasn't," Iggy said. "Max, Fang likes you a lot, you know that?" said Gazzy. Angel went, "Max, I know Fang still likes you." Nudge, uh oh, "I'm ready to jump down the building (like what help would it do? She would just whip out her wings instinctively) if Fang doesn't like you anymore. You know you still like him, and I'm sure that if Fang came back, you'd choose him over Nick, right? After all, you only know Nick for three weeks plus but you've known Fang for all your life!"

I groaned again. Fang. Did they really want us to get together? Then we'd be one happy bird family flying over high seas and airplanes. The more I thought about it the more the idea grew in my mind, then suddenly shrunk to the size of a bullet when I realized I didn't even know Fang's real name. The murmurs grew louder and louder until I was so sure my ears were going to burst.

"Shut up!" I roared. "I'm not a pawn, and I have only a pair of ears. How am I supposed to listen to the ranting of six people at the same time?" The whole table looked at me, positively stunned at my outburst. I looked back at them. "Sorry," I mumbled, "You're just getting on my nerves." Then I turned to retire to my room.

Once I had locked the door, I fell on my bed, tears streaming down my face. "Fang," I whispered thinking about what Nudge had said, "I really like you, maybe even love you. But if only you'd come back to me, I'd forget all about Nick and go with you happily even to the Arctic in only my nightgown. I'd fly round the world a million times just to have you back. But what good would it do? You would have moved on by now…"

I lay on the bed, as confused as a bird kid stuck in a love triangle with no way out except for one of the guys she likes comes back to her, which is pretty impossible.

I fell asleep, thinking of Fang and Nick and the stupid love triangle.

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**A/N ****It's**** really short. ****Few**** more chapters to the end!**


	6. choose, Fang or Nick

Max P.O.V.

**A/N ****Some**** getting together involved.**

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**Chapter 6**

The next day, I went to school, as disheveled as ever. Want to know why? I spent the whole night dreaming of both Fang and Nick quarrelling over me, and I'm practically nothing to quarrel about, and then I dreamed of myself struggling over who to choose. Fang, or Nick. As I dropped onto my seat beside Nick, he tapped my shoulder lightly, "What's up, dude?"

"Nothing," I said, "Nightmare." He cast a furtive glance at me and said, "No, that's not what's bothering you." I looked at him in mild surprise. So far, the only person who had managed to read me that well was Fang, and that was after fourteen years of living under the same roof. But Nick, he's only known me for just over three weeks. How did he do it?

I motioned to wave it off and he didn't pester me anymore. Grumbling about nothing in particular, I rested my forehead on the table. Professor Umhill came through the door, "Class, today we're going to be conducting a Science experiment on how certain chemical react with each other. I would like you to assemble as quietly and as neatly as possible outside the classroom."

Still grumbling, I filed out of the classroom together with the rest of the class and lined up beside Nick at the end of the queue. Professor Umhill led us to one of the Science labs in the school and asked us to pair up, a pair to a table which held a conical flask, a test tube, a measuring cylinder, a Bunsen burner, a bottle of green liquid, a bottle of red liquid (which looked suspiciously like wine), a bottle of blue liquid, a bottle of yellow liquid, a bottle of purple liquid, a bottle of black liquid, a box of matches, and a beaker with no markings on it.

He handed out some gloves similar to that which dentists use and told us to put them on so that if the experiment went out of hand, your hands would be saved. Nick and I settled for a table at the far end of the classroom opposite the whiteboard. Professor Umhill's voice rang out loud and clear, "I want a person from each table to fill the measuring cylinder with water until the fifty milliliter mark from the two taps at the back of the room, then pour it into the beaker." I went to do that. The rest of the class pushed and shoved each other at the other tap, not wanting to be anywhere near me. Grinning, I winked at Nick, who winked back, and filled the measuring cylinder completely unobstructed.

I returned to the table, poured the water, and waited for the rest of the class to finish filling their measuring cylinders and beakers. Professor Umhill barked, "Will the other person light the Bunsen burner and place the beaker over it." Nick lighted a match and lit up the Bunsen burner, then placed the beaker over it coolly. The rest of the class was still struggling and having problems lighting their matches, and a few burnt ones littered the floor very ungracefully. Nick and I shared a laugh and waited for the teacher's next instructions.

Professor Umhill said, irritated, "And when you're done with the lighting of matches, I would like you to experiment with mixing the different chemicals together. Observe what happens when two colors are mixed together and jot down some notes on the chemical reaction. When you're done with observing it, come to my table and pour the mixture into its respective containers labled: Red and Yellow; Yellow and Green; Red and Purple; and so on. After discarding it, I would like you to wash the beaker, then use the measuring cylinder to measure fifty milliliter of water and pour it into the beaker. Repeat this process until you have experimented with all the colors. The water is so that the solution is more diluted and whatever strong chemical reaction would be milder."

Nick was chosen to be the recorder of the observations, since my penmanship was still a little shaky. First, I did yellow and green, putting in only a little of each so I wouldn't waste them. It started fizzing white like a rabid dog who was frothing at the mouth. Nick took a look at it and wrote the observation down: White fizz. I threw the mixture away and went to wash the beaker, refill the measuring cylinder, and filled the beaker. That went on and on and on for quite a long time. I had asked Nick what his favorite color was and he said, "Black." Mine was red, so we decided to save the two colors for the last and see what happens.

Finally, all the bottles were empty except for the red and black one, which had only one small portion left of each. Carefully, I poured the two colors in. It started going off like fireworks and I almost whipped out my wings to get away from it. After the shock settled and the mixture was still going off, I said excitedly, "Nick! Nick! Take a look at this!" He didn't reply, and it didn't sound like his pen was scraping the paper at all. "Nick?" I asked curiously and looked at him. He was staring at me. I gave a nervous smile and turned to the mixture, which was still going off. He cornered me at the table and I took a step backward, until my hip hit the table.

And before I knew it, his lips were upon mine. Startled, I made a move to push away but my resolve soon disappeared as he pressed his lips against mine harder. Boy was he daring. Suddenly, everything came flooding back to me; I remembered how it felt like when I kissed Fang at the beach after Ari had kicked his butt, I remembered how Fang's lips felt when we kissed at the cave, and it felt just like this. Nick pulled apart and whispered, "Max."

I looked at him and I couldn't believe it, "F—nick?" He nodded, I jumped up and I wrapped my arms around him in a bear hug, whispering, "Fang! I can't believe it's you!" Slowly, his arms came around my waist and hugged me back.

Suddenly, Professor Umhill's voice rang throughout the lab, "Nicholas! Kathryn! I would very much appreciate it if you kept your show of affection till my lesson ends, and preferably after school!" The class started sniggering as we pulled apart, flushing like the setting sun. Fang was back.

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**A/N Longer than the previous, as compensation.**


	7. The boyfriend meets the inlaws

Max P.O.V.

**A/N La ****la****la****la****… this ****chapter just explains everything and makes everything clear why Fang wears specs and such.**

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**Chapter 7**

After school, I made Fang call his mum to tell her that he won't be back for dinner and I dragged him to mum's house. Pushing the door open, I shouted out, "Guys, this is F—nick." Angel was the first down. "Max? What about Fang?" Beside me, I could feel Fang tense up. "Don't worry, honey, he'll be alright," I said, and Fang squeezed my hand. Angel looked at Fang suspiciously, but seemed put out like she couldn't get anything out of him. I'll bet he was saying the pledge backwards or something.

I glanced at Fang and he grinned. Gazzy and Nudge came down next. Gazzy said, "I can't help but feel I've seen him before somewhere…he looks a little familiar."

I watched as Nudge's face fell, "Max, so you really gave up on Fang, haven't you?" I gave her a weird look and turned to Fang, grinning at him. _Nope, I haven't given up on either Fang or Nick_Then Nudge said, "I prefer Fang, at least he's hotter and a lot more good looking." I rolled my eyes and felt Fang do the same.Iggy came down, "What, Max, you brought your boyfriend home?"

"Yup," I said. I dragged Fang towards the stairs. Suddenly, Iggy turned rigid, "That footsteps… Fang, old man!" Fang's face burst into a full blown smile and he whack Iggy on the back. "Good to be back, dude. Mind if I stay for dinner?"

"I'm alright with it, but just checking, you coming for dinner to meet the in-laws or as siblings?" Iggy asked. I whacked his head and said, "You'd better shut your gap or you'll never see daylight ever again, you get me?" Iggy nodded as if he couldn't care less.

Angel looked at Fang from head to toe, then she was flying towards Fang at top speed and hugging him at the waist since she wasn't tall enough for his neck. "Oh my gosh, Fang! Is that really you? Max got so depressed I had to take out some stuff from her mind!" _Huh, so she _was _playing with my mind. _I shot her daggers and she looked at me innocently. Fang sent a smirk in my direction and I glared at him.

Angel released him and Nudge started, "I didn't really expect Nick to be you, you know? Your name's Nicholas, and after the problem about being called Fnick, I didn't really think you'd want to be called Nick anymore. Angel sent me some images of you from Max's mind and I didn't even suspect a thing!" Fang took off his glasses, "Do I look more alike now?" Nudge nodded her head and continued, "But your hair's all funny and you look like a geek. Did you ever consider leaving your hair alone? Have you been liking Max all a—." Gazzy cut her off.

"We all thought Max had gotten over you after her long, long depression." Iggy nodded his head and said, "I had a pretty fun time with Gazzy while Max was depressed, though. She didn't really bother about us and our bombs."

I glared at Iggy and ushered Fang into my room as Gazzy called out in mum's voice, "Don't do anything illegal, dears, or there'll be hell to pay!" Like, what was he thinking? We're not planning to have kids, you know? Well, okay, maybe in the future, but still.

Shutting the door behind us, I sat on my bed and Fang followed suit, putting on his glasses and carefully scanning my room. It had a red wall, and black floor and ceiling. The ceiling had been littered with glow-in-the-dark stars and galaxies so when I slept, I would think that I'm in space. Yeah, stupid, I know, for a kid my age who isn't really a kid anymore. I looked at Fang.

"Nice room," he said. "What's up with the short hair?" I asked. Fang pretended to think really hard, but I've lived with him long enough to know he's not.

"I don't want to be recognized as the guy who had rendered his help to Max to save the world. You know, the moment I stepped out of my house it was like a shower of girls had fell over the area?" he said. Only one thought was running through my mind: _And did you hook up with any of them?_ As if reading my thoughts, some uncanny ability he has, he shook his head, "Nope, none at all, because the next day I was cooking up a plan to get as little attention as possible. So I got mum to bring me to the hairdresser's to get my hair chopped."

"And the glasses," I said, "Are you really myopic?"

"Nah, those are just part of the become-a-nerd plan, besides, I think, without my glasses on, I'd still look like Fang," he replied.

"And that isn't a good thing?" I asked. Fang pretended to weigh the odds. Just to quicken up his mind making process, I pecked his lips and he said, "Hmm, maybe." I looked at him, forcing myself to look distraught. He gave in. "Alright! It is a good thing," and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, kissing my hair gently.

"Did you know it was me all along?" I finally asked. He shook his head. "You're different. You've changed, somehow, maybe because you're cleaner. I couldn't recognize you until we had out art lesson on charcoal drawing. The birds." I looked at Fang, "And yet I couldn't recognize you until today." He chuckled and said, "So, are you still going to make my leave my hair?"

"Why not? I think you look better with your hair long."

* * *

**A/N Finish. Not gonna drag it any longer.**


End file.
